


he was just a boy

by charjace



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 19:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charjace/pseuds/charjace
Summary: luke likes to write just as much as steve





	1. the boy just wants his mother

**Author's Note:**

> these are drabbles i've done as if luke has written them as a piece, for himself, school or rehab.

that little boy, he would wait for hours on end. for days just for his mother to come back to him. for her to come back and love them, to be embraced by the warm hugs of his mother, and to hear her whisper that everything is going to be alright. but, she never comes and he breaks his own little heart as each car passes by without dropping off his mother. his heart shatters into pieces as the car drives off with those red demon lights.

he’s six years old, he doesn’t understand death. he doesn’t understand how she died, how can he when he’s barely even told that until he’s older and his aunt tells him that she’s worried about him and his sister.

seven cars go by and he pulls of his glasses before going to bed, doing his best to not cry. he misses his mother, why can’t she be back already? where was better then her children? six years old and he doesn’t understand that his mother is now forever asleep and will never come back.

months of this self torture, of watching the cars go by and breaking his little heart as they don’t stop. no matter how much he would count to seven, she wouldn’t come back to them. seven was suppose to be safe, but it’s not magic. it’s not bringing her back.

the little boy just wanted his mother back; but he could never get her back and he has to live with a piece of him forever broken. the piece the size of her love for him.


	2. they don't believe you

six years old and they don’t believe you, they don’t believe you because you’re six years old and you just have an over active imagination. so that guy in the cellar, he isn’t real. you were just scared of the dark and this new place. you say you don’t like the house, and they brush it off. you’ve moved around too much that is what they put it down too. making a friend who happens to come from the woods, no, she isn’t real. she lives in the woods how can she be real. 

no one believes you because you are young and naive. no one believes you, and no one will ever believe you.

years later, and still no one believes you. maybe it’s because you pump yourself so full of poison so why would they. you burn them and steal from them, giving them no reason to believe you when you tell them you need some money for something  _other_  then the poison. they don’t believe you when you say you just want to be there for your sister. so; you don’t tell them you’ve made it to ninety days sober, because why would they believe you - they’ll just wait for you to flee and relapse once again.

they don’t believe you, they never believed you and you walked this nightmare alone with no one to tell.

because no one believes a six year old kid and no one believes an addict; and i was once both of those.


	3. the struggles of trauma & coping

you don’t know what it’s like, to feel so sad and afraid that you don’t know what to do anymore. that nothing seems to stop the aching in your head that even your own twin can’t help because it’s a memory that is haunting you, one you want gone. so, you go off to a party because someone told you there was one then there is a liquid handed to you. downing it and you just continue to do so until the memories are no longer there. that they’re just a blur. it works, and you feel fine - until it’s gone and they’re back again.

images of your friend chocking right in front of you, of your father running in and destroying your fun. of you scared out of your mind as you wait in the car. counting; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. one for mum, one for dad, one for stevie and one for shirl. the one for theo and the one for nell and me makes seven. it’ll keep you safe. you repeat it until you can’t anymore and it’s all too much.

so you use a temporary fix because you can only use it every now and then. but you still feel like there is something wrong with you, with your mind because it’s feeding you lies. you don’t believe the memories, and then you’re in your twenties and someone offers you a better fix then the liquor you use. and it is. it gets rid of the evil thoughts. makes the horrible images disappear into NOTHING and you just feel numb to the world, and that is so much better then feeling like your mind is racing with all those horrible things.

one injection; she’s not foaming at the mouth anymore. two injections; your mother is hugging you. three injections; your family is still together. four injections; no more bowler hat guy. five injections; there was no one down in the cellar. six injections; you’re not crazy and it’s not dark anymore. seven injections; you’re safe.

you inject yourself with this poison because it takes away the bad shit you’ve been through. you know it’s poison, you know it’s killing you from the inside out but it’s so addictive. it’s so addictive you lose sight of your family as you bleed them dry. you lie and steal. you watch as they grow tired of your shit, and stop helping you feed that addiction of yours; or helping you to get better because you’d just relapse again. because that temptation is too much. you take another hit and you never make it past 30 days before another hit. one time, you make it to sixty days - but you ruined it by fleeing the coop to try and make it to your sister’s wedding.

but, your older sister kicks you out before you step foot in the place because you needed to get high to be able to get through the day without one of those stupid nightmares. so, to respect your twin you go. you take the money and do as shirl suggests and shot up the rest because what else is there to do? it’s all you need to do.

your siblings, they don’t want you. your father, he’s an asshole who never gave you the answers you needed. you’ve wronged them all, you’ve burned them all trying to feed this ugly monster inside so that it can keep those god awful images out of your head.

you feed the addiction so much that coming down, it’s hell. you feel so god dam cold, so fucking stiff and your whole body hurts. its cold and you feel sick to your stomach, but you can’t inject yourself this time, because you have to deal with this all. deal with the shivers, the vomiting and the aches. as you ride it out, but even then, you’re still not done with it. you’ve still got the steps. you’ve still got the temptations but now you’ve got the will power because you need to bring back your sister’s brother. you need to bring him back, and then maybe you can start mending the bridges. but you will never know if they’ll accept you, or believe you. 30 days. 60 days. 90 days. it goes on, and every day remains a struggle.


End file.
